


Carbuncle of Death

by argyle4eva



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Asylum 2010), Torchwood
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, Holiday Fic Exchange, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5526257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argyle4eva/pseuds/argyle4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes and Watson encounter a strange blue gem, killer dinosaurs (again!) and a mysterious American, all in a single December night. **Spoilers for the Asylum Sherlock Holmes movie.** I hope it's not too obscure a combination, and that you all enjoy this little Christmas crack(-er)! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carbuncle of Death

**Author's Note:**

> Written as my gift!fic for the [Sherlock Seattle 2015 holiday card exchange.](http://sherlock-seattle.tumblr.com/tagged/ssfce2015) A double-221B ficlet (442 words in Libre office). Technically Gen, but with a hint of squint.

Holmes and I crouched in the darkened alleyway, gasping for breath and straining our ears for signs of pursuit. There were none.

"Let's look at our spoils, then," Holmes said, and shook the blue gem from its velvet pouch. In the palm of his hand, it shone like an electric spark - literally, radiating its own brilliant light. "It's a bonny thing, and I've never seen its like, but why is it worth the lives of five men?"

"And why the method of execution?" I asked. "Death by dinosaur? Uncommon among jewel thieves."

"Indeed," Holmes said. In the reflected light from a streetlamp, I saw a shadow of pain cross his features.

"Do you think it’s . . .?"

"Thorpe? No, he's long dead, and these dinosaurs are flesh and blood, not mechanical fabrications."

I remembered the glittering eyes, razor claws, and incongruous feather crests of the creatures that had been chasing us, and nodded.

"Then . . ." I began, but was rudely interrupted.

"Sorry, gents. I'll take that gem now." The man in the mouth of the alley spoke with an American accent. He wore a military greatcoat, and held a gun pointed directly at us.

Holmes and I froze. I had my service revolver, of course, but was not certain I could draw in time.

"Congratulations on getting this far," the stranger added. "But this is where you stop. It isn't safe." (Odd statement from a man with a gun!) He held out his hand, and I could sense Holmes' powerful intellect working beside me, calculating odds and options.

Decision made, Holmes dropped the blue gem into the stranger's hand. I gritted my teeth at the loss of our prize, but could see no other course of action.

The stranger smiled, and I registered how handsome he was, with clean-cut features and a rakish air.

"Thanks, Mr. Holmes," he said, backing into the street, "you're as clever as they say. And Dr. Watson" - to my great consternation, he _winked_ \- "nice waistcoat!"  
  
Before Holmes or I could respond, the stranger whistled. He was answered by a rush of air as a flying dinosaur - a pteranodon - swooped down, grasped his shoulders, and bore him away with great strokes of its leathery wings.

Holmes and I ran from the alleyway to see the stranger and his accomplice silhouetted against the frosty winter moon. Holmes, improbably, was grinning.

"Aha! He'll lead us to a solution, mark my words . . . are you well? You seem unduly flushed."

"I'm fine," I said, attempting not to redden further.

"Then the game is afoot - or a-wing! Watson, follow that bird!"

  


 


End file.
